


Getting Into the End Zone

by RedCheshire



Series: Holland Far From Bone [3]
Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bets & Wagers, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23601481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedCheshire/pseuds/RedCheshire
Summary: The guys gather to watch SuperBowl 55.  Unbeknownst to Tom, there's a wager on the game that makes American football way more interesting than he'd imagined.
Relationships: Chris Evans/Chris Pratt, Chris Evans/Paul Rudd, Tom Holland/Chris Evans, Tom Holland/Chris Pratt, Tom Holland/Paul Rudd
Series: Holland Far From Bone [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1421503
Comments: 29
Kudos: 38





	Getting Into the End Zone

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fictional story in which sexual activity between consenting adult males is depicted; it is no way based on true events or the sexuality of any of the persons mentioned. If you are underage or it is otherwise illegal to read this story where you live, please stop reading now.
> 
> This story is the work of the author and should not be copied or posted  
> elsewhere in any way without the permission of the author.
> 
> Comments can be emailed to: red.cheshire@yahoo.com  
> Find me on Instagram @redcheshire

Author’s Note: This story takes place in February 2021 in Tampa, Florida.  
Special thanks to Andrew P. and Danny M. for helping with ideas for this story.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Oh man, I can’t believe this!” Chris Pratt grinned as he watched Tom Holland running around the suite, checking out all the stuff in the space that the guys had rented. “There’s an ice cream station! And a full bar? And, damn, the food menu is four pages?”  
“There’s more than food, sport.” Shrugging off his jacket, Chris chuckled, hanging it up on a hook near the door.  
“Oh cool, massage chairs! Oh shit, it’s a really great view of the field!”  
“Yep - kiddo, welcome to Super Bowl 55.” His big grin matched the one stretching across Tom’s own features, the two friends giving each other a big high-five. “Here, let’s put this up.” Tugging lightly at Tom’s arms, he helped his friend pull off his own jacket, tossing it onto the nearby couch. Pressing his palms to Tom’s shoulders, he kneaded the muscles underneath the grey t-shirt. He could hear Tom sigh, followed by a large gulp as he swallowed.  
“Um, Chris…?”  
“Yeah, kiddo?”  
“You know there’s a giant window there, right?”  
Reaching out with one hand, Chris pressed a large blue button on the wall. The glass lit up with a pale blue color, with a bolder blue outline glowing around the edges of the window. “Not anymore.” Pressing his mouth into Tom’s wavy hair, he laughed. “New tech that they installed in the fancy suites - press a button and it becomes one-way glass. They figure that if guests are paying this much, they might want to be able to enjoy the game without the press snapping photos non-stop.”  
“Oh...that is coooool!”  
Chris laughed, infected by Tom’s exuberance. He glanced at the clock on the wall as he made his way over to the bar. “So, Evans and Paul should be here soon. Want anything to drink?”  
“Do they have bourbon?”  
“Yes, Tom. The answer is ‘Yes’ - they have pretty much everything.” Shaking his head with a grin, he poured Tom’s drink and a whiskey for himself. Walking back over, he wrapped his arms around Tom, snuggling him as he handed over the glass. “Looking forward to the game?”  
“Mmmhmm.” Tom relaxed his body against that of the larger man, melting into his big muscles.  
“And the after party?”  
“MMMHMMM.” Tom basically purred in response. Chris planted a kiss against the top of Tom’s head, then pulled away, plopping down onto a nearby couch. Tom watched, admiring the way that the navy blue and green fabric of Chris’ Seahawks shirt stretched across his chest and arms. As soon as Tom’s rear hit the couch, the door to the suite opened.

“Hello hello!!!” Chris Evans and Paul Rudd entered the room, nearly bouncing in their steps with excitement. Eyeing Pratt’s shirt, Evans made a face, his nose wrinkling in feigned disgust. “Gross - can’t wait to see my guys stomp your team again.”  
“Whatever. You know damn good and well that your team just got lucky.”  
Rolling his eyes and laughing, Evans pulled off his jacket and hung it on the wall, revealing a white Patriots jersey, blue stripes running down his sides. Both men turned their attention to Paul, who was wearing a black polo shirt.  
“And who are you rooting for?” Pratt took a sip from his glass, one eyebrow raised.  
“Eh. I’m rooting for the open bar.” Paul grinned, happy to be out of the line of fire in his friends’ rivalry. “And cheering for the winner.”  
Tom’s eyebrows knitted together, a little confused. “Wait, so you’re gonna hold out and then cheer for whoever wins between the Seahawks and the Patriots?”  
Opening a beer, a mysterious smile stretched the corners of Paul’s mouth. “Oh, I don’t really care that much about football. I’m just here for the party, but I am curious to see who comes out on top.” Seeing Tom’s confusion grow, Rudd looked like he was trying not to laugh before deflecting the conversation. He nodded in Tom’s direction, pointing his beer toward Tom’s chest. “I take it you’re rooting for the Seahawks?”  
“Huh...oh.” Tom looked down, as if he’d forgotten that he was wearing a grey t-shirt with the Seahawks logo. A slight blush hit his cheeks - he wasn’t about to tell the guys that Pratt had bought him the shirt, helping him try it on in the fitting room (and then wearing nothing but the t-shirt around the hotel room they were sharing). “I uh, I’m actually more of a futbol fan.” He paused, noticing the confused looks. “Well, soccer. I always forget that Yanks call it something different. Anyway, yeah, soccer. Not really football. Er, American football.” Realizing that he was rambling, Tom brought his glass up to his mouth, taking a drink.

Making his way to the sitting area, Evans patted Tom on the shoulder as he passed by. “No worries, bunny...” He smirked as Tom’s blush deepened at the nickname; the way he said it, he knew that to the other guys it might have just sounded like ‘buddy’. “...I think we’ll get some Pats spirit in ya today.” Winking, he settled down into a large comfy recliner, accepting a beer from Paul and turning his head to look at Pratt. “So, what was the bet? The team that has possession of the ball gets it?”  
“Mmhmm.” Pratt took a long sip of his beer, contemplating his next choice of words. “But, not right away - that doesn’t seem fair.”  
“Naw, you’re right. Maybe first team to make thirty yards. *Then* whichever team has possession.”  
“That works. What about the, uh, end zone?”  
Evans glanced at Tom for a moment before looking out the window, the blue glow still illuminating the edges. Taking a sip of beer, he slowly swallowed before shrugging. “Second quarter?”  
“Sounds good.” The two men named Chris looked at each other, holding their drinks in the air towards each other in a silent toast.  
Meanwhile, Tom glanced back and forth between them, blinking. “What on earth are you two talking about??”  
The corner of Evans’ mouth pulled up in a grin. “Nothing much, buddy. Just a little bet on the game, to make it a little more interesting.”  
“What’s the wager?”  
The grin grew bigger and a bit devilish. “You’ll see - don’t worry about it.”  
Still standing, Paul patted Tom on the shoulder, nodding towards the field outside. “So, how much does our little Tom-Tom know about ‘American football’?” Tom stood up and joined him at the window, rattling off the few details he happened to know. The two men stood, pointing at various elements of the field as Paul explained the way the game worked. 

Clearing his throat lightly, Evans got Pratt’s attention. “You got permission? Don’t want to ruffle any feathers.”  
“Of course. You think I’d still be talking about the bet otherwise?” Pulling out his phone, he pulled up a text message and held up the screen up. A large thumbs-up and devil emojis were clear on the screen.  
“Just wanted to make sure.” A soft laugh rolled out of his throat. “Man, not sure I’ve ever looked forward to a game so much.”  
“Don’t get cocky - let’s see how your team manages to do.”  
“Meh.” Pratt’s comment was met with a shrug and a grin. “Going to have fun either way.” With a wink, Evans pulled himself off of the couch and made his way to one of the snack bars.

The door gave a beep and then opened. “Good evening, gentlemen.” A member of the waitstaff entered the room, dressed in black slacks, a white button-down shirt, and a dark grey vest. “My name is Danny, and I’ll be helping make sure you all have a great time tonight. If there’s anything you need, please let me know. How is everything so far?”  
The four men nodded, voicing their approval in different ways.  
Pratt raised his hand a little, to get the waiter’s attention. “Everything’s great so far. This place is amazing. Any other tricks we should know about besides the one-way glass?”  
“Actually, yes. Looks like you’ve already found that feature. Only two other things to point out. The blue button…” Making his way to the control console, he pointed out the 4 buttons on the console. “...as you know, activates the one-way glass. The green button sends a silent signal alerting us that you need something. Red sets the suite to ‘do-not-disturb’. And white activates the intercom, for a two-way voice call.” Looking at the group again, Danny stood with one eyebrow cocked, questioningly. “If there’s anything else that you gentlemen need help with, we’re here to help. Enjoy the game!” Danny collected one of the empty beer bottles, depositing it into the trash can on his way out. 

Pratt looked at the clock, then over to Evans. “Game starts soon. We should probably discuss the bet…”  
“Yeah, that’d be a good idea.” Looking over at Tom, Evans patted the couch cushion next to him. “Bunny, hop on over here.” He tried not to chuckle as Tom’s cheeks went pink again at the nickname. The younger man got up and crossed the lounge area, sitting next to Evans with a confused look on his face. Wrapping his arm over Tom’s shoulders, Evans leaned in. “So, you know how Pratt and I both love football but hate each other’s teams?”  
“Yeah…”  
“And how we’re always coming up with bets for whose team is going to win?”  
“Uh huh.” Tom grinned, remembering some of the stuff the pair had come up with over the years, embarrassing each other.  
“So, we made a bet for the Super Bowl. And because it’s a big deal event, we kinda came up with a really fun bet.” He watched as Tom’s eyebrow lifted up slightly. “And we kinda involved you in the bet…”  
Tom’s eyebrow moved up even higher, both confused and curious. “I’m involved in the bet?” He looked over at Pratt. “How…?”  
Pratt’s eyes twinkled with a bit of mischief. “Um, yeah. You could say we put your ass on the line. Literally.” He laughed lightly as Tom’s eyebrows knitted in confusion.  
Tom looked back and forth between Evans, starting to realize the nature of their bet. “Wait...my ass?”  
“Well, your mouth first…” Evans chuckled, taking a sip of his beer.  
“My mouth?” He kept looking back and forth, waiting for answers. Across the room, Paul coughed, rolling his eyes.  
“You two are awful, like cats playing with a mouse before killing it. Kid, they made a bet on the game. First team to move thirty yards gets to ride your face. After that, whichever team has possession of the ball, that guy gets possession of your mouth.” He watched as Tom sat there, blinking. “Then, starting in the second quarter, it’s that cute little ass of yours instead of your mouth.”

“Holy fuck.”  
“That’s...kinda the idea.” Evans looked at Tom, failing to keep his expression even; his mouth stretched into a large grin.  
“What, um...what made you think I’d even go for that?”  
“Besides the fact that you’ve already slept with everyone in the room?”  
“Um…”  
“Or, really, worked your way through most of the guys in the MCU?”  
Tom swallowed, realizing that the words were accurate. He *had* had a lot of fun with his co-workers over the years.  
“Pratt knows about you and me and Seb on the boat. I know about you and Pratt on his farm.” He watched as Tom looked over at Paul and back over to Evans.  
“And you rode Paul’s dick during Hemsworth’s big party. If you thought the mask hid your identity, think again. You’ve got a pretty recognizable ass, although that cute little mouth of yours is even easier to I.D.”  
Tom touched his fingertips to the raised puffy area around his lips, realizing that Evans was right. He looked over at Paul. “Naw, I wasn’t going to say anything at the time - you thought you were in disguise, so it was fun. You made for a pretty good party favor though.” Paul winked over his beer bottle, watching Tom blush even more.

Evans ran his fingers through Tom’s wavy locks of hair. “So, what do you say? Would make for a fun game, especially since you’re not much into American football.”  
“Um...yes? Just need to check with Jake and make sure he’s cool with it.” Evans nodded over towards Pratt. Following his gaze, Tom saw Pratt’s phone held out towards him so that he could see the text conversation where Pratt filled Jake in on the details of the bet. At the bottom was a thumbs-up emoji and a devil emoji. Tom chuckled, imagining Jake reading the texts and keeping it a secret. “Well, I guess that’s a yes then.”  
“Excellent.” Evans ruffled Tom’s hair, standing up to get another drink and refills for the other guys before sitting back down on the couch. Tapping Tom on the back, he got the smaller man to stand up and then tugged on his hips, pulling him down to sit on Evans’ lap. Hearing someone clear their throat, he looked over at Pratt. “Calm down, buddy. His clothes are still on. I just enjoy feeling him sit on my lap, even with pants on.” Placing a hand on Tom’s chest, he stroked the muscles through the shirt, fingertips of his other hand playing up and down Tom’s thigh. “Look, game’s about to begin.” Tom shifted, feeling a hard lump form in Evans’ crotch. His friend’s hips rose up a little, pushing against Tom’s rear, the two slowly gyrating just a little.  
“Remember the boat?” Evans’ voice was low, keeping the conversation between just the two of them.  
“Mmhmm.”  
“Can’t wait to be back inside you again.”  
“Mmmm…” Tom basically purred, remembering the sensation of more than waves causing Evans’ boat to rock that weekend.  
Everyone watched the screen as the game began, Seahawks in possession of the ball. They’d made it fifteen yards before the Pats made an interception, causing Pratt to groan. The group yelled at the window, watching the two teams battle as the Pats slowly inched across the field. Evans’ jostling caused his hips to grind against Tom’s butt, resulting in the other man pushing back reflexively against the hard bulge. Around the twenty yard mark, possession of the ball switched back to the Seahawks. One of their players managed to make it around the Patriots line, running like wild. Pratty stood up, chanting at the window with his arms up, cheering on his team...only to watch the Seahawks player get tackled, losing his grip on the ball, snatched away by a Patriots man. Once again, the Seahawks defense gave the Patriots a hard time. The quarterback snapped a long pass behind the Seahawks line, right into the hands of fellow Patriots player, who ran unobstructed halfway across the field, easily crossing the thirty yard mark.  
“That’s my team!” Patting Tom on the hip, Evans ran his lips at the edge of Tom’s ear, feeling the shudder go down his friend’s spine. “Time to claim my prize.” Shifting his hips, he caused Tom to rise up from his lap, watching as the younger man sank down to his knees, crawling between Evans’ wide-spread legs. Tom felt fingers running through the hair at the back of his head as he squeezed the large lump in his friend’s jeans. Popping the button open, he quickly pulled the zipper down, revealing navy blue mesh material. As he slid the jeans down, Evans was left sitting in his white jersey and a blue jockstrap. The cotton material stretched obscenely, trying in vain to hold Evans’ meat, a dark wet spot at the end of the bulge. Tugging the fabric to the side, the large cock popped out and stood up, lengthening as it got fully hard now that it was free. Tom stared for a moment, taking in the sight that he hadn’t enjoyed in awhile. A large plum-shaped head sat like a fist at the end of a thick veiny shaft. Pressing his lips to the base, Tom stuck out his tongue and gave a long lick up, all the way to the end. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the sweet taste of precum as he swirled his tongue around the knob, before lashing his tongue up and down, exploring the length of Evans’ dick. He placed his lips back at the end, ready to devour the large piece of meat when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Pats lost the ball.” Pratt winked as he unzipped his own pants. Looking up at Evans, Tom shrugged with a grin, knowing he’d be back as he turned towards his tall beefy friend. He enjoyed teasing Pratt’s cockhead for a moment before feeling a beefy hand push at the back of his head, pushing him down, the thick length burying itself down his throat. Within seconds, his face was mashed into Pratt’s pubes, the large cock stretching his throat. “Ahhh, daddy’s home.” Letting up pressure, he gave Tom space to pull his face back, the wet shaft covered in spit reappearing into view...before pushing down on Tom’s head, his cock disappearing into Tom’s mouth again.

“Yes! Pats have the ball again.” Pulling off of Pratt’s member, Tom looked up for a moment, winking and smiling, a string of spit hanging in the air from his lower lip to the tip of Pratt’s dick. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he turned and crawled back between Evans’ legs, rubbing his hands up and down the thick thighs as he swallowed the thick piece of meat. Resting his arms out along the back of the couch, Evans watched the view for a moment before leaning his head back with a long contented sigh. A low moan filled the air as Tom began massaging the large balls, remembering how much Evans liked having those played with. The couch shifted as Pratt sat down next to Evans, their knees brushing, waiting for his turn. As tempted as he was to stroke himself while watching the blowjob, he wanted to make this last. Instead, he placed his hand on the back of Tom’s head and pushed down gently again, causing the younger man to deepthroat their friend. When Tom’s lips met Evans’ balls, the blonde man ground his hips up, working his pole inside Tom’s throat. 

“Seahawks.” Pratt tapped Tom’s shoulder, getting his attention. Tom pulled off from Evans’ rod, face flushed both with lust and from holding his breath, moving the short distance over to inhale Pratt’s meat again. This time it was Evans who reached over, curling his fingers into Tom’s hair and using the grip to guide the younger man’s face up and down Pratt’s pole.  
“Yeah, that’s it. Who’s a hungry little guy?” Pratt felt Tom moan in response to Evans’ words. The hand tugged Tom off of Pratt’s stick and pushed Tom’s face against his balls; Tom responded by lapping his tongue around and over the heavy orbs, moaning into Pratt’s crotch.  
Pratt, in turn, spread his legs a little more and angled his hips up, giving Tom better access. “God damn…” He sighed his appreciation, rolling his head back.

“Aaaaand the Pats again.” Evans grinned as Tom shifted over again. Taking Tom’s face in his hands, he guided his rod into the open mouth and thrust his hips up and down, slowly face-fucking his friend. The sounds of slurping filled the room as Tom sucked eagerly on the pole as it slid in and out from between his lips. Suddenly, a beep filled the room followed by the door opening. “Checking in, how’s everyone doing?” Their waiter, Danny, entered the room, putting the empty bottles into the trash can and restocking the bar.  
Turning around, Pratt kneeled on the couch, his nude lower half blocked from the waiter’s view by the short wall behind the couch, his beaming smile on display. “We’re doing great - thanks.”  
“Anything we can get for you guys?”  
Paul rubbed his stomach. “Actually, I’m getting kinda hungry from watching the action. Is there pizza?”  
“Of course - what kind?”  
“Meat lovers.” Evans was heard but not seen by the waiter.  
“Yes sir. Any others?”  
“I’ll do a supreme.”  
“Got it, Mr. Rudd. Anything for Mr. Pratt or Mr. Holland?”  
Tom slid his lips off of Evans’ manhood, tilting his face up. “Pepperoni.” Leaning back down, he began licking up and down the thick shaft.  
“Not a problem. We’ll have those ready in about twenty minutes.”  
“Cool - thanks Danny!” Pratt grinned as he turned around and slid back down on the couch, hearing the sound of the door open and close again. “Hey now - the Pats don’t have the ball anymore.”

Evans watched as Tom took hold of the wide base of Pratt’s member, licking up and down like it was his favorite ice cream cone. “Well, you were a little busy talking to the waiter.”  
“Ahhh, never too busy for our little buddy Tom here.” Pratt ruffled Tom’s hair, then stroked the smaller man’s ears and neck, encouraging his tongue work. A bead of precum appeared at his slit, getting larger until it broke free and rolled down the shaft, meeting Tom’s tongue. “Ugh, fucking Pats…” He patted Tom on the shoulder, indicating that it was Evans’ turn.  
Wrapping his hand on the back of Tom’s neck, Evans pulled down while pistoning his hips up. “Getting near the end of the first quarter.” He was eager to bust a nut, enjoying Tom’s excellent oral skills. Tom responded by sucking harder and bobbing his head up and down faster, working Evans’ pipe. 

“Fuck!”  
“Yeah, interception - let’s go!” Tom pulled off, breathing heavily from holding his breath while inhaling cock instead of air and returned to Pratt’s tool, working it as eagerly as he had Evans’. The broad chest began rising at a faster pace as Pratt’s balls began to boil. Suddenly, Evans was clapping his hands.  
“That’s my boys!” He moaned as Tom’s mouth returned to his di,ck sucking away in earnest. Tom felt Evans’ fingers curling and uncurling in his hair, the grip getting a little stronger as the big beefy blonde neared the edge. “Ahh...fuuuuuck…” The fingers tightened their grip and Tom latched his lips around the big thick meaty head, feeling the shaft swell up and then jerk as it began firing. He moaned as a shot of jizz struck the back of his mouth, coating his tongue. More shots followed, each one quickly swallowed down as both men groaned in pleasure. Finally spent, Evans sighed as he gently pushed Tom off of his cock, the thick member falling out of Tom’s mouth with a wet smacking sound. Tom nuzzled and licked up Evans’ thighs, still using his mouth to make the bigger man feel good. “Seahawks.” Tom looked up to see Evans nod his head over towards their friend.  
Sliding over, Tom crawled up into Pratt’s lap, latching his mouth onto Pratt’s with a deep kiss, sharing the taste of Evans’ seed. A minute later, he was back down on the floor, inhaling Pratt’s dick, sucking it for all he was worth. Between the sight of Evans shooting his load into Tom’s mouth, tasting it on Tom’s tongue, and now feeling the tight warm lips slide up and down his pole, he knew he wouldn’t last long. “Kiddo…” He felt fingertips dig into his thighs, giving away Tom’s own hunger. “Ahhh!!!!” His own cry filled the air as his balls began releasing their load, Tom’s mouth working to swallow every drop. Spent, Pratt let his friend continue suckling on the tip of his cock until it became too tender, pressing his thumb against Tom’s forehead to nudge him back. “Fuck, you’re good.” Tom pulled away, grinning, his cheeks flushed red from his efforts. Moving back between Evans’ legs, he licked up the abs, crawling up onto the couch as his tongue traveled across the broad pec muscles, sliding his mouth up Evans’ neck until it met the other man’s lips, pulling him into a kiss and sharing the taste of Pratt’s jizz still fresh on his tongue. He felt Evans’ broad hand wrap around his neck, holding him close as their tongues wrestled one another for a while before pulling away.  
“Fun bet.”  
“Mmhmm.” Evans had a tired grin, enjoying the afterglow of busting a nut. “Paul’s been enjoying the show…” Tom glanced over to see Paul leaned back in a recliner, pants unzipped and stroking his hard dick.  
Turning back to Evans, Tom smiled with delight. “That doesn’t seem fair.”  
“No, it doesn’t. What should we do about it?”  
Tom slid down from Evans’ lap and quickly cleared the short distance to Paul’s chair, wrapping his lips onto his co-star’s dick. Paul moaned as he enjoyed Tom’s efforts, the pair holding each other’s gaze as Tom’s face bobbed up and down. “How do they taste?” Tom pulled off of Paul’s meat and straddled his lap, holding Paul’s face as he melted into the kiss, letting Paul’s tongue explore the inside of his mouth, the remnants of Pratt’s and Evans’ juices still coating his tongue and the insides of his cheeks. Breaking the kiss, Tom returned to the ground as Paul stood up. With Tom kneeling before him, he pressed his hand to the top of Tom’s head, holding him in place as he stroked his cock, the head just an inch away from Tom’s mouth. “Fuck fuck fuck.” Paul groaned as he began cumming, the first splash of jizz hitting Tom’s lower lip and chin. The second shot hit his cheek, and the rest landed on Tom’s tongue. His mouth wide open, he stretched his tongue out further, curling it under the meat of Paul’s cockhead, feeling the ropes of cum fire across his tongue and hit the back of his throat. He kept his mouth open throughout Paul’s orgasm; when the other man’s hand stopped moving, he latched his lips around the tip of Paul’s meat and began sucking the last drops of cum out, swallowing the load. Pulling out of Tom’s mouth, Paul used his dick to wipe the juices from Tom’s chin and cheek, sliding back between Tom’s lips so that the younger man could clean his shaft. Tucking his meat back into his pants, he zipped up. “How much time is left?”  
Pratt looked up at the scoreboard outside. “About three minutes in this quarter.”  
“Perfect.” Paul kneeled down, pushing Tom flat against the floor. Yanking down the pants and briefs, he freed Tom’s hard cock, hearing it slap against the other man’s flat stomach. Inhaling the firm seven inches, he felt Tom’s body writhe in pleasure as he neared release; worked up from sucking three cocks over the last half hour, it wouldn’t take long. Within a couple of minutes, Tom grabbed onto Paul’s head and thrust up as his nuts began firing away, Paul hungrily devouring each shot. It seemed like his balls were never going to finish unloading as his cock throbbed again and again. Paul moaned in pleasure at the copious load, enjoying the sweet taste of Tom’s nectar. When the younger man was finally finished, he slid the softening cock out of his lips and back into the red briefs, tossing his friend’s pants off to the side. Tom lay there, panting. 

“So, what do you think of ‘American football’ now?” Evans grinned as he taunted Tom, sauntering over to the bar for another drink.  
“You Yanks know how to play a game.”  
Pratt wrapped his arm around Tom’s shoulders as the younger man sat on the couch. “And that’s just the *first* quarter.”  
“Oh fuck.”  
“Exactly - that’s the plan for the second quarter!” Raising his beer in a quasi-toast, Evans laughed as he sat on the other side of Tom. “Oh, and look who’s winning.” His smile grew into a wicked grin as the group looked at the scoreboard, noting the 3-0 score in favor of the Patriots.  
“Speaking of, we should get ready for the next quarter.” Paul’s grin was wide and hungry. Taking a sip of his beer, he tapped Tom on the knee, silently prompting the younger man to stand up, curious about Paul’s intentions. Using his hands, Paul turned Tom around, gently nudging his back so that the Spider-man actor was kneeling on the couch and facing away, head peeking over the little bar wall. Handing his beer over to Pratt, Paul used his now-free hands to slide the back of Tom’s briefs down, his tongue snaking down the lower spine, causing a shiver to run up Tom’s back. Moving downward, his palms pressed into the firm rear orbs, spreading them so that he could bury his face, tongue and mouth working to open up the tight little hole. Tom’s hands gripped the back of the couch, his back arching as a low moan rolled out of his throat.  
The door beeped again and opened, as Danny reappeared with a stack of pizza boxes in his hands. “Pizza’s here!” Setting the boxes down on a table near the entrance, he glanced up towards the lounge area. “How are you guys doing?”  
Evans and Pratt stood, both having zipped up their pants, coming down the couple of steps to the food area. Grabbing some plates, Pratt handed one to Evans and opened the box. “We’re doing great man - thanks for bringing these.” Tossing a couple of slices onto a plate, he sauntered back up to the lounge area.  
“Are you doing okay, Mr. Holland?” Danny looked up, showing a little bit of concern at the Marvel star, whose facial expression was a little...off.  
“I’m...mmm...I’m doing fine.” Tom blinked, trying to keep a straight face. Paul hadn’t ceased his oral efforts on Tom’s rear just because the waiter had appeared, only slowing down so that the sounds of eating ass wouldn’t be heard. “Just, uhh...don’t like seeing the Seahawks losing?” Down below, and out of sight, his toes were curling as an outlet for the pleasure Paul was subjecting him to.  
“Well, there’s still the second quarter - they could make a comeback.”  
“Hoping so…” Pratt’s words trailed off into a chuckle as he took a bite of pizza, watching Evans roll his eyes at the pun.  
“Alright. Looks like you’re set for a while. If there’s anything that you need...white button or green button.” Danny made his way back out of the suite, closing the door behind him. The wet sounds of Paul’s tongue lapping at Tom’s ass filled the air again, followed by Tom groaning in pleasure. 

A minute later, the sound of a loud buzzer was heard from the other side of the window. “Ahh, yes - second quarter.” Reaching for his jacket, Evans pulled out a small bottle from the inner pocket and stepped up next to Paul. “Thanks for warming him up.”  
Pulling away, Paul wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, clearing away the spit. Tom’s hole winked in anticipation as he glanced over his shoulder, watching as Evans shucked off his pants and jockstrap, working the lube up and down his pole. Taking a step forward, he placed his hands on Tom’s hips, taking a deep breath as he eased forward, working the large head of his cock inside. Both men sighed with pleasure as Evans pressed further, inches of his thick shaft disappearing into the tight confines of Tom’s rear. Stopping, he pulled back until the rim of Tom’s entrance spread open further when the bulbous tip pushed against it. Fingers pressed into Tom’s flesh, Evans once again shifted forward, not stopping until he was buried all the way inside, both men crying out. Taking a deep breath, he pulled back slowly, only to sink back in, moving at a leisurely pace. Football quarters could last a good long while...and there was the entire game to enjoy. Taking his time, he slid in and out, relishing the way Tom’s tunnel gripped his cock. 

“Yes! Seahawks got the ball!” Grinning, Evans pulled out and stepped away, watching as Pratt lined up his dick and buried it to the hilt, Tom’s back arching with a moan as the shaft got thicker towards the base, stretching him out a little. “Thanks for opening him up.” He adopted Evans’ same laidback rhythm, listening to the eager bottom moan hungrily. Whenever the possession of the ball changed, the two guys would switch, putting their large muscles to work as they enjoyed casually plowing Tom’s ass. The smaller man panted and moaned, his body breaking out into a sweat as he felt both pleasure and torture at their relaxed pace. He was used to either guy picking up the speed and power of their thrusts, but the pace of their cocks sawing in and out of his hole remained frustratingly slow. Whichever guy *wasn’t* fucking him made sure not to absentmindedly stroke their meat, wanting to put off their orgasm and enjoy the moment.

It was Evans who wound up being the first to not be able to hold out any longer. After nearly thirty minutes of either fucking Tom or watching Pratt’s big tool spear the kid, the tight grip of Tom’s insides became too much. The pace of his hips faltered as he tried to hold back; realizing it was inevitable, he slammed forward, pushing his balls against Tom’s entrance as they began unloading deep inside. “Arrghhhhhhh!” Head thrown back, he yelled out as he shot rope after rope of cum into his friend’s rear. Tom bucked his backside up and back, grinding against Evan’s hip bones as he felt the thick member throb within. Finally spent, Evans slumped down, curling his torso over Tom’s; tugging the younger man’s face up, he shoved his tongue in between Tom’s lips, deeply kissing him while he was still buried inside, his dick still pulsing as his body calmed down. Pulling away, his cock slid out with a wet sound.  
Instead of mounting Tom’s ass, Pratt tugged on his hip, pulling him off of the couch. Taking him by the hand, Pratt led his friend to the window. Taking advantage of the one-way glass, Pratt pressed Tom up against the large floor-to-ceiling window, spreading the slim muscled legs as he slid back inside. His thrusts shoved Tom against the window, his face planted against the glass as Pratt pressed between his shoulder blades with one palm, the other hand holding Tom in place at the hip. Tom watched as a small group of guys walked right by the window, just a few inches away from where his ass was being rammed. When one guy stopped to use the one-way-glass as a mirror, fixing his hair, Tom moaned at the idea that the guy had no idea what was going on. Behind him, Pratt was finally picking up the tempo. The thrusts sounded hard and wet, Evans’ cum lubing up Tom’s hole. “Fuck, sport - getting close…”  
“Chris…” Tom’s voice came out as a needy whine. Pratt leaned in, wrapping one arm around Tom’s chest as he pounded away, mouth working against his friend’s neck. His haunches flexed as he pushed forward, impaling Tom one last time. Stifled moans could be heard from where Pratt’s mouth was mashed into Tom’s shoulder as he came, releasing his load at long last. The muscles of his ass tensed and released with each shot, Tom moaning as he once again felt a big thick cock pulsing inside. With one last thrust, Pratt let out a loud sigh, slowly relinquishing Tom from his embrace. 

“My turn.” Paul stepped forward with a big grin. Seeing Tom stick out his ass, he shook his head. “Not quite yet, Tommy.” He chuckled as Tom’s nose wrinkled up at the nickname. Guiding Tom over to a nearby ottoman, he maneuvered the tightly muscled body until Tom was laying on the ground; shoulders resting on the floor, his rear was leaning against the edge of the footstool, legs in the air. Smiling wickedly, Paul positioned himself on the other side, using his hands to spread Tom’s thighs apart as he dove down, burying his face one more into Tom’s crack. Tom moaned as a tongue pierced his hole, lashing inside to get a taste of the two Chris’ juices. Finding his treat, Paul began eating Tom’s ass with vigor; the more he could taste, the more intense his mouth worked...and the more Tom’s body squirmed as he moaned loudly, legs flexing and toes curling.  
Stepping up behind the pair, Evans pressed his groin against Paul’s bare ass. Even though he wasn’t hard, the feeling of the plump piece of meat grinding against his cheeks egged Paul on, his head wiggling against Tom’s rear, loud wet hungry sounds filling the air. “How’s that feel, buddy?”  
Tom looked up into Evans’ blue eyes, his own eyelids fluttering in ecstasy. “It feels fuck-all amazing!” The younger man’s words came out in a breathy sigh. Evans laughed with amusement at the sight of Tom’s fingers raking against the carpet, fingertips digging into the soft material.  
“Yeah? Paul’s pretty good with his tongue. It’s a work of art.”  
“Mmmm...yeah it is.” Tom gave a dreamy smile as his body relaxed, his toes curling in the air as Paul’s tongue sent waves of pleasure through his body.  
“Just like your cute little ass. Match made in heaven, if you ask me.” Evans took a sip of his beer, admiring the view below. “Maybe…” His words trailed off, watching as Tom’s eyes opened back up, eyebrows knitted together in pleasure. “Maybe, if you’re lucky, Paul here will give you what you *really* want.” He ground his hips against Paul’s ass as he spoke. The only response he got was a moan from Tom and a muffled growl from Paul. Reaching out, he took hold of Tom’s cock - it was rock hard, the several inches bobbing in the air. It felt like rigid steel in his hands - damn, the kid was turned on like crazy. Giving a gentle tug, Evans watched as a string of precum emerged from the tip, hanging down through the air until it landed against Tom’s chest. The corner of his mouth curling up, he continued stroking Tom’s dick, watching the foreskin slide around at the end of the shaft, which was hot and throbbing in his hand. It wouldn’t take much…  
“How’re you liking the little bet we came up with for the game today?”  
“Ahhh….it’s...oh god, it’s pretty awesome.”  
“Yeah? You liked the idea of us tossing you around? Getting to taste and ride our dicks?”  
“Fuck…”  
He ground against Paul’s rear harder, watching as the dark brown hair shifted left and right, up and down, as Paul assaulted Tom’s hole with his tongue. Tom’s moans were turning into high-pitched sounds at the sensations at his ass and cock, along with Evans’ little chat. “Again already? Definitely fucking later. There’s still the third quarter.”  
“Oh fuck..”  
“But first, it’s only fair that Paul gets a turn...”  
“Yeah. Oh god...yeah.”  
“Yeah? You want Paul to pull his tongue out and slide his cock into your tight little…” His dirty talk was cut off as Tom cried out, eyes clenched tight, as his whole body began jerking. The hard pole in Evans’ grip spasmed as white fluids rocketed out, splattering all over Tom’s neck and face. Cum was hitting his hair, his face, his cheeks, his neck...going into his open mouth. Once Tom’s nuts were finished firing, Evans knelt down beside him. Wrapping his hand under Tom’s neck, he leaned down, locking their lips together in a deep kiss, tasting Tom’s fluids.  
“Aww, bunny, you always taste so sweet.” Tom stuck his tongue out at Evans’ jest, swiping it up over his upper lip to clean it off.  
Suddenly he was tugged upward, spun around, and planted on all fours on the ottoman. Wasting no time, Paul rammed his cock in, driving balls deep into the hole he’d just been munching on. Grabbing Tom by the hips, he hammered at the other man’s rear, causing Tom to cling to the small piece of furniture in order to keep his balance.  
The scene was so enthralling that no one really noticed the sound of the door beeping as it opened. “Just came in to check...oh damn.” The waiter stopped at the top of the steps into the lounge area, mouth hanging and eyes wide open. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” It was almost comical how his upper body shifted as if to leave but his feet wouldn’t move. A large lump in his black slacks gave away the reason for his immobility.  
Crossing the short distance, Pratt wrapped his arm around the waiter’s shoulders. “Danny - you’ve been doing an amazing job.”  
“Thanks…”  
“And well, we should find a nice way to say thank you.” As he spoke, Pratt stepped forward, bringing the waiter along with him, towards Paul and Tom. “Now, normally it’s our job to give you a tip…”  
“You don’t have to…”  
“No, hush, don’t be silly. You’ve been working really hard.” As he finished his sentence, Prat placed his hand on the waiter’s crotch, feeling the hardness pushing against the college student’s pants. Giving it a squeeze, he shifted his fingers up and then down, unzipping the black fabric. “But I think this time, you get to *give* the tip.” Danny looked down at his crotch as his cock was pulled out, not believing that what was going on was real. His meat came through the fly, thickening and lengthening now that it was free. Placing his hand at the small of Danny’s back, Pratt gently pushed him forward another step, bringing his groin right up towards Tom’s face...and then another nudge resulted in his manhood entering Tom’s open mouth. The waiter sighed as Tom began sucking on the hard cock, finding it to be an outlet for the pounding he was receiving on the other end. Paul’s thrusts had slowed down but become harder, ramming in and out of Tom’s hole as if he were trying to break it.  
Evans came over and took the waiter’s hands, placing them on the sides of Tom’s head. “That’s it, enjoy his mouth. It’s our way of saying thanks.” Danny gave a slight thrust, as if testing the waters. Feeling Tom moan around his dick, he became encouraged, curling his fingers into Tom’s wavy locks as he began pistoning his shaft in and out of the hungry mouth. Before long, his hips were bucking as he came down Tom’s throat, the Marvel actor swallowing every drop. Reaching around, Pratt tucked Danny’s softening cock back into his underwear, zipping up the black slacks.  
“Do you guys have burgers?”  
“Um, yeah…” The waiter shook his head, thrown off by the return to normalcy while two men were fucking away right in front of him. The strong hands rested on his shoulders, holding him in place to watch the show.  
“Think I could get a bacon cheeseburger, with fries?”  
“No problem…”  
“Evans, you want anything?”  
The other man looked at the ceiling, thinking. “Strawberry milkshake?”  
“We can do that.”  
“Paul?” The other man shook his head. “Tom?”  
“Cake. Don’t care what kind, sorry. But cake, if you don’t mind.”  
“Coming right…” The waiter stopped, realizing the unintended humor in his words. “I’ll be back with the food.”  
Suddenly, Paul slammed forward, moaning as he found his release deep inside Tom’s guts. His fingers dug into Tom’s sides as he filled the man up with more cum.  
“Thanks buddy.” Pratt patted the younger man’s shoulders, watching as he slowly turned, went down the steps, and exited the suite. “Guys, we might want to put that on ‘do not disturb’...” Reaching out, he pressed his palm against the red button. “...although the waiter’s already seen this…” His hand waved towards the other guys’ nudity. “...so, what the hell?” He grinned as he plopped down on the couch, legs bare, only wearing the Seahawks shirt.

Pulling out, Paul wiped his cock clean with a hand towel and then wiped up Tom’s rear. Both men were panting with exertion. Climbing up from the footstool, Tom made his way over to the couch, curling up against Evans’ broad chest, his legs stretched out over into Pratt’s lap. Bringing everyone a refill, Paul settled into the recliner and the guys relaxed, enjoying the rest of the second quarter. By the time the half time show began, the trio on the couch had shifted into cuddle mode - Tom stroking his fingers over Evans’ big furry pecs, the large man petting Tom’s wavy locks, and Pratt massaging the long muscular legs.  
With the half time show over and the third quarter beginning once again, the guys remembered the bet that they’d made. “Well, look who’s ahead.” Evans’ mouth widened into a grin, glad to see that the Pats were still winning, even if it was just by a few points. “And they have possession of the ball. Which means I’ve got possession of this.” Reaching over, he took a handful of Holland ass and squeezed. Shifting up, Tom straddled Evans’ lap, taking charge of the fuck session this time. The bigger man wasn’t hard - he still needed to recover from the first half of the game, but his ample cock was chubbed up. Licking up the stubbled chin, Tom planted his lips on Evans’ own, the two mouths opening up as their tongues began exploring one another. Evans’ hands slid over Tom’s backside, one hand burying itself in his friend’s hair, the other stroking up and down the curves of his ass. Tom’s hands were all over Evans’ torso, digging into the meaty flesh of his pecs, and tracing down over the abs below. Evans’ dick responded to the stimulus and a couple of minutes later was poking up against Tom’s crack.  
“Ha! Seahawks just took the ball.” Pratt’s fist went up in the air in celebration. He watched as Tom winked at Evans, sliding over to leave Evans’ lap and crawl on top of Pratt’s meaty thighs. Watching Evans and Tom’s make out session had caused his manhood to respond and it was now standing straight up, stiff and ready for Tom. Their mouths mashed together into a vigorous kiss, Tom gripping onto Pratt’s shoulders as the big strong hands kneaded his behind. Thick fingers spread the cheeks apart and pushed down, bringing the perky rear end down to meet his hard member. Finding Tom’s entrance, Pratt thrust up as he pulled Tom’s body down, impaling the younger man in one stroke. As the long thick pole slid home, Tom’s head tilted back, his mouth open as he moaned loudly with pleasure.  
“Ohhh...fuuuuuuck”  
Pratt ground his hips up, his balls pushing against Tom’s entrance. “Yeah, sport - how do you like that cock?”  
Tom tilted his head back down, grinning wickedly at the stud whose body he’d come to know so well over the years. “Mmm…” Rising up, he let nearly all of Pratt’s shaft leave his body before dropping himself back down its length. “...it’s pretty good. It’s *always* pretty good.”  
“Yeah? Show me.” Pratt rested his arms out along the back of the couch, relaxing as he watched Tom lift his body up and down, eagerly riding the thick dick. Minutes later, he groaned in both pleasure and pain as the Seahawks scored a touchdown - as happy as he was to see them get points on the board, it also meant that the ball was turned over to the other team.  
Hopping off of Pratt’s lap, Tom moved back over to Evans...who took hold of Tom’s hips and spun him around before pulling him down. Tom found himself facing the window, his weight supported by Evans’ arms as the thick member found its way inside. Wriggling his body, he rode Evans while facing away, getting used to the large mass inside his guts again. Evans wrapped his arms around Tom’s chest and the smaller man found himself pinned in place, the hips below thrusting up, pounding into his hole.  
“Fuck you’re so tight...this bring back memories, bunny?”  
“Mmm….” Tom’s eyes closed, his mind flashing back to a memory of being on a boat, his back resting against Evans’ big chest, being rammed from underneath, Seb watching while stroking his cock. “Yes…”  
Fingers gripped his hips, slamming them down, impaling Tom with a force that nearly knocked his breath out. “Yes, what?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Good boy.”  
“Just curious…’bunny’?” Paul looked over at the writhing pair. The sight was nearly comical - he was wearing nothing but a black polo shirt, bare legs sprawled out, hard cock bobbing between his legs, casually eating popcorn out of a bowl.  
Evans grinned, bending Tom forward. “Show ‘em, tiger.” Placing his hands against Evans’ knees, Tom began quickly bouncing up and down, energetically riding Evans’ cock. Feeling the thick shaft slide in and out, he moaned as waves of pleasure rippled through his body.  
“Ahh...I get it now.” Paul winked, giving the pair a thumbs up and picking up another handful of popcorn.  
“Sorry, you lost the ball again.”  
Patting Tom’s tush, Evans watched as it and its owner rose up and returned to Pratt’s lap, the big dick parking back inside. Pratt went for a chance to cool down a bit, letting Tom just sit on the piece of meat instead of riding it, their hands roaming over each other, licking and sucking each other’s necks and shoulders. Both of them were moaning and panting, pawing at each other’s bodies, grinding their hips together. Rising up, Evans made his way over so that he was standing behind Tom; leaning forward, he ran his hands down the slim-muscled torso, pulling it back so Tom’s head was resting against his shoulder. Taking hold of Tom’s hips, he pushed down, ramming every last bit of Pratt’s shaft inside. Pratt responded by gripping Tom’s thighs and shifting his hips up, working his cock around inside the tight tunnel, feeling it quivering around his shaft. Between the two men’s efforts, they turned Tom into a groaning, sweaty mess - his eyes were half open, mouth hanging as hungry whining noises rolled out, his entire body shining with perspiration. Sensing that Tom was nearing the point of no return, Pratt stopped his efforts. Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms around Tom’s waist and leaned in for a kiss. Stroking softly up and down Tom’s rib cage, he brought his friend down from a lustful high, feeling his breath slow down.

“Pats have the ball.” Paul’s voice broke into the trio’s little soothing cuddle session. Smiling, Evans hooked his hands under Tom’s arms and pulled up, hearing the sound of Pratt’s mighty member sliding out. Tom moaned at the feeling of his rear being empty - it’d been filled for the better part of two hours so far. He let Evans guide him over to the window, feet nudging his own to spread them apart, and hands bringing his own up and pinning them against the glass. A hardness slid up and down the crack of his ass, searching for a moment before finding what it was looking for, penetrating him deeply in one stroke. Tom mewed as Evans pinned him to the window, using the full weight of his large beefy body to hold Tom’s in place as he drove his cock in and out. Inches away, people walked by, unaware that someone was being smash-fucked nearby, unable to hear the cries of pleasure through the thick pane of glass.  
Tom growled, eager to feel Evans pump his seed inside again...and knew exactly which buttons to press to make that a reality.  
“Chris…” Tom’s voice rolled out, plaintive and needy. “ Fuck…”  
“Yeah, kid?” Evans curled his face against Tom’s neck, feeling the other man’s entire body shake with each hard thrust.  
“I need…” His voice trailed off, head rolling back.  
“Tell me what you need.”  
“Fuck me…please…”  
“Bunny, I *am* fucking you already.”  
A sigh blew warm air against Evans’ ear. “Harder...please?”  
“Fuck, pal.” Rearing back, Evans slammed forward as hard as he could. He heard Tom’s voice go from a moan to a whine as the thick cock speared him over and over.  
Tom’s head rolled back again, pressing against Evans’ forehead. “Show me what it’s like to get fucked by America’s Cock.” His mouth curled up in a smirk, knowing that he’d hit one of Evans’ buttons and prepared himself for what he knew was coming next. The meaty pecs, already pressed against his back, jammed so hard against his skin that it felt like they were going to merge with his own flesh. Down below, the girthy ramrod of flesh hammered his ass, as if Evans was trying to destroy his hole. The glass of the window shook as he attacked Tom’s rear with every ounce of strength he had.  
Tom’s fingertips pressed against the windowpane, the tips turning white, the muscles of his upper body flexing in response to the onslaught below. His moaning was constant, the sound broken into shorter noises with every thrust. “Uhh..uhh..uhhhh…” Evans’ own grunts formed a rhythm with Tom’s noises. Both bodies quickly became drenched in sweat.  
“Fuuuuuuuuck…” Pratt stared at the pair, entranced by the sight; he and Paul completely forgot about the game and the rest of the world as they watched the display of raw lust.  
Already wound up, the power-fucking put Evans over the edge after a few minutes. He bit into Tom’s shoulder, a muffled roar erupting from his throat as he shoved forward with one last powerful thrust. The muscles of his ass knotted as his cock began firing away, depositing yet another load into Tom’s somehow-still-tight hole. Halfway through his own orgasm, he felt Tom’s body begin to shake, the tight tunnel surrounding his shaft, clenching and squeezing like crazy. When he’d finally finished shooting his seed into Tom’s guts, Evans’ body finally relaxed. Pulling away from Tom’s body, he curled down to the floor, landing on his meaty ass, resting his weight on his elbows. Looking up, he watched as Tom’s body continued quaking, white liquid running down the glass as he came hands-free, the pleasure from Evans ramming his prostate too much to bear. Finishing with a moan, he copied Evans’ motion and slumped to the floor, curling up in Evans’ lap, his head resting against the broad chest; panting, both working to catch their breath.

Slow clapping filled the room, as Pratt and Paul both applauded the show that their two friends had put on. Looking back, the pair grinned. Tom’s eyes went to Pratt, his thick thighs spread as he reclined on the couch, over seven inches of man meat waving in the air. Rising up, he staggered across the lounge area and curled up in Pratt’s lap. Pratt stroked his friend’s head, fingers tracing through the locks of hair that were plastered to Tom’s skin, drenched in sweat. “You okay, kiddo?”  
“Mmmhmm.” Tom gave a little moan of pleasure, his face pressed to Pratt’s chest.  
“You need a break?”  
The perky little ass wiggled under the weight of Pratt’s other hand. Lifting his gaze to meet Pratt’s, Tom smiled. “Maybe later. You know how much I love having you inside.”  
“You sure?” Tom answered by leaning down and giving a big lick across Pratt’s chest before latching his mouth onto a nipple and suckling it, earning a growl from the larger man. “Fuck. Alright sport, how do you want it?”  
Crawling out of Pratt’s lap, Tom made his way over to the other end of the couch. Flipping onto his back, he pulled his legs up and held them against his chest, putting his ass on display; Pratt stared at the hole as it winked at him, looking a little puffy from the day’s abuse.  
“How about you pin down me too?” Looking up, he caught Tom’s mischievous eyes and held them as he turned and crawled across the couch, making his way over to the eager bottom. Pulling his body up over Tom’s, he planted his palms on the back of Tom’s legs, pressing them into place as the head of his cock ran up and down Tom’s crack, teasing the younger man.  
“Pratt…” Tom’s voice was full of need, a tone that was familiar to his big beefy friend.  
“Damn, son, you are hungry today.” Pushing forward, Pratt slowly slid in, feeling Tom’s insides squeeze around his tool. Taking his time, he enjoyed the warm tight confines in one long stroke until his large balls were pressed against Tom’s cheeks. He flexed his cock, eliciting a moan out of both men before slowly pulling back, all of his cock re-emerging except for the tip. Back and forth, his hips gave a slow gentle long-dicking, a stark contrast to the power-fuck that Evans had given him.  
“Pratt…” Tom’s voice changed, sounding a little uncomfortable.  
“Yeah?”  
“Um…” The smaller man squirmed his shoulders a little. “You’re, uh...kinda...heavy?” His eyes squinted up in a little bit of embarrassment.  
“Thought you liked my being all big.” Pratt winked, realizing that his large frame and muscles were a lot of weight to press down on Tom’s smaller body. He shifted his palms, planting them on the couch cushions on either side of Tom’s body and lowered his chest and shoulders to touch the back of Tom’s legs. Bringing his face down, their lips met and the pair began kissing as Pratt continued sliding in and out. Tom’s hands curled up, squeezing Pratt’s arms and sliding up and down the length of his meaty forearms. Pratt’s breathing became heavier as the feeling of Tom’s body, inside and out, began pushing him towards the edge. Growling against Tom’s lips, the growl turned into a moan as he pressed forward one last time, his leg muscles flexing as he began pumping his load deep inside. Tom broke the kiss, rolling his head back and his mouth hanging open as he gave out a long sigh of pleasure, feeling the thick cock throbbing within his ass. Pratt gave out a large exhale of his own when his balls were finished unloading, plopping his body weight back down against Tom as he relaxed. His cock slid out, half-soft, the tip grazing the leather couch cushion.  
Lifting back up, he slapped Tom’s haunches as he pulled away. “Paul, he’s all yours.” 

Paul made his way over to the couch, looking up at the television screen. “Five minutes left in the quarter.”  
“Well, that’s what...twenty minutes in real time?” Evans called out from the bar area. “Pratt, you want anything?”  
“Yeah, whiskey?”  
“Coming right up. Paul, I know you’ve got your own cocktail right now.” Evans chuckled as he poured Pratt’s drink and made his way back over to the lounge area, glancing over to see that Paul was holding up Tom’s legs, his face buried between the perky ass cheeks again. Handing Pratt his glass, Evans settled into the recliner. “So...one more quarter to go. Think we should give the kid a break?”  
They both looked over to the end of the couch. Tom had his eyes closed, small sighs of contentment rolling out of his throat as Paul ate out his hole, lapping out the two Chris’ loads with little moans of his own.  
“Yeah - don’t want to break the golden goose.” Pratt’s mouth curled up in a grin. He knew Tom could take a pounding but didn’t want to overdo it. “What do you want to do with the bet for the fourth quarter then?” Evans looked up at the ceiling and Pratt stared out the window as they pondered how to keep the bet going without using Tom. The only sounds in the room were Tom’s moans and the wet smacking of Paul’s mouth at work.  
“How about one of you gives it up instead?” Paul looked up, putting the idea out into the open before sliding his tongue back between Tom’s cheeks.  
The two beefy studs looked at one another appraisingly. Pratt shrugged, “Hell, I’m game.” He glanced down at Evans’ heavy member, swallowing with a little apprehension at the idea of taking that much girth.  
The other man smiled devilishly. “Oh man, I’m looking forward to tapping that big meaty ass of yours.” The taunt earned an eye roll from Pratt.  
“What makes you think I’ll be the one bottoming?”  
“Um, dude - it’s the Pats. We’ve been here before, and they’re going to beat the Seahawks. Again.” Both guys looked at the score, which was close but the Pats had a small lead.  
“Fine. But don’t get too sure of yourself. Your little golden boy Brady left the team.”  
“And we’re doing fine without him. Pats are going to win - you can bet your ass on it.” The joke earned another eye roll from Pratt and a muffled groan of mental anguish from Paul.  
“Alright. So we’ll take a break during the fourth quarter. Whoever wins gets to top the loser.”  
“You’re on.” The pair lifted their glasses, clinching the bet by toasting each other through the air.  
Minutes later, Paul was ready to cum again. Rising up from the couch, he stepped over towards the end, tapping Tom’s side as he moved. Tom rolled over, hanging his upper body over the end as Paul closed the distance. Jerking himself with one hand, Paul gripped Tom’s hair with the fingers of his other hand, holding the twink’s head in place, the head of his cock being licked by Tom’s eager tongue. A grunt was all the warning that he gave, looking down as Tom opened his mouth to wrap his lips around Paul’s member; instead, Paul tilted his hips back, leaving a small gap between his dick and Tom’s lips, watching as white cream pulsed out, landing on Tom’s tongue. Several spurts followed, coating the inside of Tom’s open mouth with Paul’s jizz. Sighing, he closed his eyes and relaxed his grip, feeling Tom’s mouth latch onto his manhood and swallow, sucking at the tip to get more of Paul’s cream. Spent, he withdrew from Tom’s hungry mouth, making his way over to the bar and getting the two of them a drink. Returning, he saw that Tom had crawled back onto Pratt’s body, the two stretched out along the couch. Smiling, he gave Tom his beer and made his way over to the a recliner, watching affectionately as the two men cuddled.

The fourth quarter crawled by - the guys finally focused on the football game instead of each other, taking turns getting drink refills and bringing snacks up to the lounge area. On his first trip back from the snack section, Evans laid out on the opposite end of the couch from Pratt, their legs tangled up in the center of the couch. Tom shifted back and forth, taking turns cuddling with Evans or Pratt depending on whose team had possession of the ball. Sometimes the cuddling involved some hot and heavy kissing with groping and grinding...and other times the guys would just relax and enjoy the warm skin contact. 

“Go! Go! Goooo!!!!!” With seconds on the clock, the guys were screaming at the window, looking between it and the television screen to see the teams battle it out near the end zone.  
“GOOOO!!!!!!!” Both men sat up, hands waving in the air to root on their teams. Tom and Paul gave each other a look, amused more by the two men’s antics than they were by the game itself.  
“AW, FUCK!” Evans stared at the screen in dismay as the Seahawks pushed over the line, scoring another touchdown...and just enough points to win the game. There were only a couple of seconds left on the clock - not enough time for the Patriots to recover.  
“Fuck - exactly. Over there, partner.” Pratt grinned from ear to ear, pointing at the large footstool. “On all fours.”  
“Fuck.” Evans got up and made his way to the ottoman, kneeling on the top on his hands and knees. Looking forward, he stared at the space between Pratt’s legs and at the large piece of meat swinging there. Swallowing, he gripped the edge of the ottoman and braced himself.  
“Man, this has to be the sweetest victory ever.” Pratt emphasized his words by tapping his member against Evans’ rear. He was maybe a quarter of the way to being hard - the earlier activities had taken a toll. Reaching out, he caught the bottle of lube that Rudd tossed through the air, slickening up his cock and planting it into the hairy crevice between Evans’ butt cheeks. Curling forward, he nuzzled the other man’s neck, grinding his hips.  
Evans took a deep breath, feeling his friend’s manhood lengthen and widen as it began getting hard.  
“You ready?”  
“Hell. Ready as I’ll ever…” Evans’ sentence cut off as he exhaled sharply, reacting to the sudden intrusion of Pratt’s cockhead pushing inside. “Fuuuck!”  
“Pay up, pal.” Pratt grinned wickedly as he slid in another couple of inches. Evans took a deep breath, recalling the view of Pratt’s cock - the fucker started average but kept thickening out towards the base...which meant…  
“God daaamn! Aahhh!” He clenched his teeth as his hole was stretched out a little more with another thrust. The part of Pratt’s tool that was already inside was doing its work on his guts as well - he felt like he was being stretched in two directions.  
Pratt pulled back, reaching down to lube up his shaft some more before slowly plunging back inside, burying a couple more inches inside. Pulling himself upright, he looked down to see only an inch or so of his dick remaining, a large vein running down the length from where his shaft was stretching Evans’ hole. Running his thumbs over Evans’ meaty globes, he pressed them down and pushed forward until every last bit of his cock had disappeared from view. He could hear air whistling through Evans’ teeth as he took in a sharp breath, his ribs heaving and the muscles of his back flexing as he worked to accommodate Pratt’s girth.  
Flexing his member inside, Pratt began pulling back, inch after shiny inch reappearing until half of the head was visible again. Gripping Evans’ hips, he slid back inside, both men groaning. “Fuck, you’re almost as tight as Tom.”  
“Fuck you - what do you mean *almost*? He takes more dick than I do.”  
Pratt shoved his cock back inside, all in one stroke. “Be nice. And he’s still tighter.”  
“Eh, you’re right. Little fucker *is* amazingly...ow, fuck...tight.”  
“Speaking of…” Pratt looked up and saw Tom sitting on the couch, slowly stroking his dick as he watched the two muscle-heads fucking a few feet away. “...sport, hop on over here. Take his mouth.”  
“Hey, that wasn’t part of the bet.” Evans glanced back, jokingly glaring at Pratt.  
“Yeah, but he went along with the first three quarters. It’s only kinda fair.” Pratt sighed as he sank himself back inside Evans’ guts. 

Evans turned around to find himself just an inch away from Tom’s tool. Grinning, he leaned forward and gave it a lick, getting a good taste of the precum that was drooling out. He’d barely gotten a chance to swallow when he felt Tom’s hand wrap around his head, holding it in place as he pushed his dick into Evans’ mouth. Whatever the larger man said came out too muffled to understand as the younger man began sliding in and out of his mouth; before long, he’d managed to work down Evans’ throat and began face-fucking him. Looking up, he and Pratt stared at each other as they used their buddy from opposite ends. Pratt’s rhythm sped up, turned on by the tightness of Evans’ insides and the cute little aggressive look that Tom was wearing. Keeping his eyes locked on Tom’s, he pulled almost all of the way out right before he began cumming, depositing his load right inside Evans’ backdoor.  
Breathing heavily, he waved Tom over. Pulling out of Evans’ mouth with a wet sucking sound, he stepped over to stand beside Pratt, watching as the thick shaft disappeared one more time before withdrawing all the way, leaving Evans’ hole exposed. A little puffy, the sides just almost touched, a small gap still present as the hole was still responding to Pratt’s pounding. 

Placing his hand on Tom’s hip, Pratt moved the smaller man forward and lined him up with Evans’ ass. Giving a small nudge to his fuckbuddy’s lower back, they both watched as the end of Tom’s manhood disappeared inside Evans. “Ohhhh...maaan.” Tom moaned as he pushed a couple of inches inside, the tight tunnel squeezing his cock, feeling Pratt’s juices slide around his shaft. Placing his hands on Evans’ rear, he plunged inside. Pulling back, he slammed forward again, partly repaying the earlier power-fuck against the window. Tom grunted, using all the power from his muscular legs to hammer Evans’ hole, listening to the bigger man moan beneath him. “Fuck yeah.” Pratt smiled, enjoying the look of bliss filling out Tom’s features.  
Soon, Tom and Evans were both covered in sweat again, Tom’s pert nipples rock hard as he assailed the beefy rear end. “God damn!” Rolling his head back, Tom gave out a loud cry as he rammed forward, his whole body jerking as he began shooting deep inside. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck, yes!” Finally spent, his shoulders slumped as he pulled back.  
Before Evans could even react, Paul was on his knees, face buried into Evans’ hairy crack. “Ohh….damn.” The former Captain America moaned and pushed his ass back to get more of Paul’s tongue, which was working hard to get at the two loads deposited inside. Pulling back, Paul wiped his face with the back of his hand. Tugging on Evans’ thigh, he stretched out on the ground. “C’mere big boy.”  
Flush with lust, Evans went along, sitting on Paul’s lap. He could feel the hard tool sliding up and down against his rear. Pulling Evans up, Paul positioned his cock to point right at Evans’ hole. “Sit on it.” The three men watched as the powerful thighs lowered down, bringing “America’s Ass” down to impale itself on Paul’s hard member. “That’s it baby, all the way down.” Evans took a deep breath as he dropped all the way down until his butt was resting against Paul’s thighs. “Come on big boy, ride it.” They all watched as Evans rose up and down, slowly. “Thaaaat’s it. Take it, baby.” Paul slid his hands up Evans’ torso, taking the two nipples between his fingers and tugging lightly on them. The sensation caused Evans to moan...and the speed of his hips increased. “Come on. That’s it.” Paul was thrusting up a little, fucking Evans from below while the muscled torso continued bouncing up and down. Tom and Pratt cuddled on the couch, watching a side of Evans that they hadn’t seen before. With a gasp, the stud began cumming, his load splattering across Paul’s chest and stomach.  
Wiping it up, Paul smeared the juices on his cock and began pistoning up and down, holding Evans in place as he fucked him. “Aw, fuck!” Yelling out, he yanked Evans’ hips down to completely take his cock just as he began firing his seed inside his friend’s guts. When his hips finished jerking, he sighed, his hands running up and down Evans’ body. The other man leaned down and the dismounted from Paul’s crotch, stretching out next to him on the floor.  
“That…” Evans took a deep breath and let it out nice and slow. “...was a great SuperBowl.”  
“Um, didn’t your team lose?” Tom grinned, one eyebrow cocked up.  
Evans shrugged, laughing. “Eh - there’s always next year.”  
“So we’re gonna make this a tradition now?” Pratt leaned back on the couch, bringing Tom along with him, stroking his hand up and down the smooth backside.  
“We could...makes the game more interesting.”  
Paul sat up, grabbing his beer and taking a drink. “Just us, or invite some more of the guys?”  
“Oh, dude, the more the merrier.” Evans grabbed his own drink and clinked it against Paul’s.  
“Oh man…” Tom blinked, his imagination running away with the idea of an even bigger SuperBowl party the next year. 

The End (for now)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed the story, have feedback, or want to share ideas, it would be great to hear from you. red.cheshire@yahoo.com  
> Find me on Instagram @redcheshire


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